Return
by sick-atxxheart
Summary: Three years ago, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were officially declared dead and the world was thrown into chaos. When they unexpectedly return, they are different. They have each other now, but they also have what haunts them. Dark!ButNotEvil! HG/DM
1. Prologue

**Return  
by sick-atxxheart  
Prologue**

It was cold the night Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy disappeared. The moon was high in the starless sky and the wind whipped through the trees in the Forbidden Forest with a surprising intensity. The students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were all safely in their beds, as were almost all of the teachers and staff; but two students were running full speed along one of the darkest corridors in the building. The Gryffindor robes of the girl, recognizable by the gold and scarlet that adorned them, clashed very obviously with the green and silver of the boy. It was very recognizable even to the passer-by that the two were not normally associated with one another; the girl had brown hair and a kind face, while the boy had extremely blond hair and a face that reflected his ever-present sneer but also the pain that he seemed to always feel inside. As they ran, they didn't look at one another, but instead concentrated on running as silently as possible. Both had an evident, but still carefully hidden, look of fear on their faces. They weren't sure what they were running from- something else, or themselves.

The moon shone on both their faces when they came to a halt on the open terrace that was on the top of the highest tower of the school. The moon glared back at them, revealing the fear they had tried to conceal on their faces. The darkness of the tower ad the light of the moon contrasted sharply, making an almost eerie sheen over the eyes of the boy and the girl. Silver eyes met brown, and without a word, they delicately took one another's hands. Stepping on the ledge, without a single breath they both jumped in the same movement, not feeling themselves falling. They felt _nothing_.

They never hit the ground. All that was left of them was a trace of red, silver, green, and gold that shimmered in the air, a subtle message: two were gone, leaving their colors behind. They had left al behind.

They were gone.

--

Albus Dumbledore was the first to hear the news that two of the most important and most influential children in the school were missing. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger; the son of a known Death Eater, the most likely to follow in the path of the Dark; and then the bookworm, the one most likely to never desert the Light. It was an interesting combination, and Dumbledore couldn't seem to shake the feeling that the two who hadn't just gone for a midnight stroll together. No, something was wrong- something was very wrong. Every once in a while, students went missing, but often they had just wandered the wrong way or had gotten hopelessly lost in the huge halls of Hogwarts. The cases were always just brushed off as accidents and regarded commonly as funny, but Dumbledore had no reason to believe that two of the most brilliant and powerful students in the school would have gotten lost, much together on the same day at the same time. Dumbledore had many things on his mind, as usual; but he couldn't shake off the worry he felt over these two. They would both be a powerful asset to the Dark, just as they were to the Light when they showed it.

Cover-up stories were made for the remaining students. It was fairly obvious to everyone when someone was missing, and had been for the whole day so far; as much as it wasn't admitted, the houses were all connected more than they knew. Gossip was shared and spread, and by the time breakfast was over it had swept through the Great Hall that the Slytherin prince and the Gryffindor princess had disappeared, and hadn't been seen at all since the previous night. Ridiculous stories were told, and Dumbledore watched with interest from the Head of the staff table as students whispered, giggled, and alternately looked worried. The staff had, of course, been informed to be on the alert; but Dumbledore had told a few, such as Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape, that he did not have high hopes of finding them. HE hadn't had a reason. It was a premonition, a feeling-and unfortunately in this case, Dumbledore had a way of being right.

--

The green, silver, gold, and red were discovered later that day. Dumbledore had rushed up to see it, and he had been mystified beyond belief. It looked to be a joke, but all his best magic couldn't make the trick reveal itself as a faux. He had even questioned Fred and George Weasley, as to see if this was one of their products; they had diligently assured him that it wasn't, and he believed them. But the red, green, silver, and gold shimmers in the air wouldn't go away, and the beauty of the entanglement of the clashing colors was almost breathtaking.

--

_In the darkness of this world_

_In the times of old_

_The shimmering eyes of silver_

_And the shining heart of gold_

_Fade into darkness_

_Surrender to black_

_They know to this world _

_They aren't coming back_

_And the fading eyes of silver_

_And the dimming heart of gold_

_Live the life of darkness_

_In the times of old_

--

_**This is in place of my fic 'If All Is Lost'. I am just more in the mood to write this one. Who knows if it will go anywhere. The above poem-ey thingie is mine. Was it any good? Does this seem any good? I know Draco and Hermione definitely seem a little OOC, but they had to. More will be explained in following chapters.**_

_**Please review! Feed the plot bunnies!**_


	2. Chapter One

Draco Malfoy had always been strong enough to not let anyone see through the facade. And that was all that mattered to him.

He had always been strong enough to never let the mask break. His whole life had been a series of lies and deceptions that fooled almost everyone around him, and although he hated the way no one knew who the real Draco was, he had no desire to break the safety that he felt from the lies that surrounded his life as surely as a cloak. His choices had always been determined by his father and his family, and essentially the Malfoy name; serving the Dark was the biggest rule of life, and Draco couldn't deny deep in his heart that he hated it. He hated every bit of it; Draco hated the fact that he didn't have any decisions; he hated the fact that the Mark that had been forced on his arm burned every time something new and horrible had to be done; he hated the face and the eyes that controlled everything, the red eyes and the paler than pale white face that left no room for movement. Everything was pre-determined; nothing was changeable. The Dark Lord's plans were set in stone, an unmoving rock of power and pain and death that encompassed everyone and everything who touched it or was involved with it. The Dark was darker than anyone wanted to admit, and similarly no one would admit that the Light was perhaps Darker than they cared to admit also; but the lines were firmly drawn, although the loyalties sometimes wavered. Lies were told and promises were shattered every day in the cruel world of the Dark and the Light, the good and the evil.

Draco's loyalties were never set in stone.

Similarly, Hermione Granger was always seen ast he Light witch. She was the one no one ever, ever saw betraying the Light; she was the good one, the bushy-haired know-it-all who was seen as a threat, perhaps, but never taken as an enemy. She was always one of Potter's trio, and her role never seemed more or less than insignificant.

She was the one who wanted the most to prove them all wrong.

She wasn't loyal to the Dark; she was, in fact, far from it. She did not support the Dark in full force; she did not have the Dark Mark on her arm, she had never come in contact with the Dark Lord or with any Death Eaters, and she had never wavered in her support of the Light. No, she was not loyal to the Dark. But she also saw the shading present in between the Dark and the Light- she saw the Grey. She saw that one can be neutral, not supporting Light and not supporting Dark. She wasn't sure why she did this, and Hermione really couldn't say how or why she had found the logic in it. Perhaps she just wanted protection, and an escape from the inevitable corruption of the Light. But she also couldn't deny that the Dark drew her; its raw power and the cruelty and trickery that accompainied it were subtly amazing and beautiful to her. Insanity was almost a pleasure, and she hated herself for feeling that way; but Hermione had always been downgraded next to Harry and Ron as the girl, the bookworm, and she wanted a bit of power for her own enjoyment. She didn't resent Ron and Harry for it in the least, and she did not hate them or want revenge at all. But she still craved that power; but Hermione, smart as she was, did not know how to achieve it without betraying those she loved dearly and joining those she had grown to despise.

Throughout the castle, only two people were wavering in their loyalties. The rest were firmly set, either in the Darkness that shadowed everything or in the Light that was struggling to bring peace.

Although they had not noticed it, both were changed. Hermione spent more time in the library instead of talking to her friends, Harry, Ron, and Ginny; Draco spent less time harassing and degrading those of lower rank or a different house and more time alone. The fateful conversation that changed everything had been unexpected, unplanned:

_"Granger?"_

_"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione said irritably, wearily, looking up at the boy she had grown to hate. His blond hair was falling into his perfect face, and Hermione couldn't help but be startled as she noticed exactly how piercing- and how beautifully sad- his grey eyes were. _

_"Why are you here?" His voice was silky smooth, but there was something in it that Hermione just couldn't recognize or identify._

_"I could ask you the same." Hermione lowered her head into her hands, tired and weary from the day's events and just confused about life itself. _

_Hermione was insanely surprised when she heard instead of saw Draco lower himself down into the chair opposite her, the dimmed library casting eerie shadows over his pale face and her rosy one. It was a startling contrast._

_"It's after hours." Draco said, almost as if reprimanding her. He wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about, or even why he was having a conversation with the Mudblood; his feelings had been so confusing lately, and his loyalties that were moving back and forth day by day._

_"We're both Prefects." Hermione's voice was low and almost husky, and Draco could hear how conflicted she was. He couldn't stand just how similar they seemed to be in that moment. He would have- could have- never expected to feel similar or even sorry for someon who was Muggle-born or of a lower blood status than the Purebloods he was usually associated with; but now that he was feeling that, he realized it didn't really seem so immensely unusual._

_They were both silent, and the room was buzzing with an awkward silence that both could feel the weight of. It was almost lke a staring contest; who would win, who would ultimately lose?_

_Finally, Hermione broke the silence. "Why are you here?"_

_Draco was silent for a long moment, and finally he sighed. "I don't know. But I had a feeling..."_

_Surprisingly, Hermione finished his thought. "You had a feeling that we are more similar than we thought?" Her brown eyes sparkled mischeviously, and Draco smiled back._

_He had slowly nodded, and then hissed quietly but without menace, "I hate you, you know."_

_Hermione smiled back, and said, her voice nearly inaudible, "And I you."_

_Faster than any of them could imagine or predict, they both had leaned across the table to meet one another in a soft kiss; it began slowly, sweet and chaste; but soon it became animalistic, each eating up the other's hunger for answers and the want or need for closure. The kiss was passionate and not awkward at all; in a strange way, it seemed to be exactly what both of them needed._

_Hermione and Draco only pulled apart once the need for air forced them to, and brown met black with a passionate glint in both their eyes. Without speaking, they kissed again, neither thinking about anything except their want, need for that kiss, need for that satisfaction of having another person close to them. When they pulled apart again, they remained leaning forward, nose nearly touching nose. _

_Draco finally whispered something, his breath landing on her nose and her eyelashes, tickling them. "The loyalties are fading."_

_"Mine are." She breathed back._

_"We need to get away before our lives our ruined."_

_Both nodded in agreement, and Hermione summed it up right before they sealed the pact with a final kiss:_

_"Let's fade the line between Light and Dark. Let's end this war."_

**_--_**

**_Hope this was alright. Took quite a while to write. I know not much happened, but if I had simply jumped in without explaining anything it would have been extremely disconnected. I hope neither Draco nor Hermione seemed to out of character. If they did, you would tell me, right? I love getting emails from F A N F I C T I O N . N E T, so please click that little review button!_**

**_You know you want to! (:_**


	3. Chapter Two

**_Three years later_**

_Draco felt Hermione shiver against his chest as he ran one thin, pale finger down the length of her cheek. He could feel the gentle, barely noticeable shake of her body as she quietly sobbed- but it was still there, and his grey eyes glistened with sadness and he gently lifted her face to meet his own. "Too soon?" He whispered in the dark, his own heart hoping for a negative answer. They couldn't go on like this._

_The pause was only momentary before Hermione whispered back, "I'm sorry. It shouldn't be..." Her eyes were pained and wet with tears, shimmering in the dark of the moonlight._

_"No," Draco reprimanded gently, his grey eyes glinting teasingly into her wet brown ones, his eyes merry but his voice serious. "No. Don't say that."_

_Hermione's small hand came up to rest on Draco's own, on her face, and even through her hand she could feel the bumps and lines of the scars that now decorated his skin. The final battle had damaged both of them in more ways than one- more profoundly than anyone else except themselves knew.. The scars weren't just skin deep- they also decorated their hearts, leaving behind an immense fear of being hurt again._

_Draco understood Hermione's fear of closeness and touch- it was for her own protection, a mental shield that was normally unconsciously put up in order not to get hurt again. Draco had put up many of his own in his lifetime, and he had eventually discovered that only Hermione was able to break them down- but Draco seemed to be having trouble breaking down Hermione's. It wasn't that he was unable to- it was just that he was afraid of hurting her further. They had been so immensely close before the war, but their relationship had been still growing- and now that it was stronger than anything else, all Draco wanted was for her to be whole again._

_Hermione surprised him by kissing him softly, her ever-present nervousness- even around him, which he was trying so hard to break her of- showing in a miniscule, almost non-existent form. Her__ need for protection but also her desperate want for his love was passionately expressed, even in that simple, gentle kiss, and Draco smiled against her lips._

_"I'm not afraid of you," Hermione whispered, pulling away. "I want you to know that. I love you. I know you would never hurt me."_

_Draco nodded slowly, waiting for her to go on. _

_"I love you," she repeated, taking her place with her head against his chest again, his arms wrapped around her body, enveloping her in his warmth, creating a protective barrier around her in order to assure her that nothing would hurt her. "I love you. But I'm scared. As you know, every touch- it reminds me of how broken I am now, it reminds me of what I lost. And that's hard to bear."_

_"It gets easier," Draco said reassuringly. "I know it does- I bear scars of my own. It gets easier, love. And I will always be here for you. I'll wait."_

_Hermione stood perfectly still for a moment, and Draco waited- they had been rocking back and forth, content in one another's arms, and for her to break the pattern so abruptly- it meant something._

_Hermione's eyes were steely and determined when she turned her face up to look into his own grey eyes. "No, she said firmly, removing her hands from Draco's tender grasp. "No."_

_Draco's shocked look and the beginning of his question was stopped by her kiss. And this time, it wasn't gentle._

_Her hands came up to rest on his head, her fingers running through his hair fiercely. Draco slowly grasped her waist and pulled her full flush against him- he could feel her tense, but she relaxed again and didn't pull away._

_The kiss had been short so far, and mildly gentle, when Hermione's tongue danced on Draco's lips, demanding entrance. He willingly gave it, and used the opportunity to pick her up. Immediately her thin legs wrapped around his waist, and Draco moaned at the feeling of her yet again deepening the kiss. He bit gently on her bottom lip, and the moan that escaped from her pleased him to no end._

_"I'm not afraid of you." Came the whisper, and that was all Draco needed. Hermione was weak- but together, they were strong. They needed one another, more than either would admit. _

_Draco carried her inside, never breaking the kiss, and when the door slammed shut, the only thing that could be heard was the sounds of the night. _

--

The next morning, Draco awoke to find Hermione wrapped completely in his arms, her face a stoic look of peace that Draco hadn't seen in a long time. Hermione had been so haunted- and day after day, Draco regretted the decision they had made to come to this godforsaken place. Hell reigned here- for Death Eaters they had become on status, but fighters for the light they remained at heart. They were spies, battling day after day not only to keep their cover but also to remain true to their own calling.

Draco had grown up with cruelty, and pain and violence had been part of his every day existence- so when he and Hermione had entered it once again, the shock hadn't affected him. But Hermione- she had been nearly broken by it, and the pain that they were forced to endure- both physical and emotional- was practically unbearable, even to Draco. Hermione had not been used to violence or cruelty, and her tears of desperation when they had first arrived at this godforsaken place had been nearly unbearable to Draco.

Their decision to come hadn't been an easy one, and that day when they had met on the tower still rested in the very forefront of his mind every single day, and every single day that passed he couldn't help regretting it. It was beneficial to the Light, for them to be here in this permanent Death Eater camp- for they were subtly destroying plans, carefully getting and saving information. Hermione and Draco both had cried after they had received their Dark Marks- burning on their arms.

It had meant everything was real. They were _really_ doing this.

But it had been three years. That was how long they had promised one another to stay, to be strong and never break.

_It was time to go back._

_--_

**I don't like this chapter, but anyway. It is an update. The next chapter will have more action. Please review.**


	4. Chapter Three

Stealing out of the Dark Lord's headquarters in the middle of the night really wasn't that much of a smart idea, Draco thought to himself as he held Hermione with one arm and his wand with the other. It was true that many Death Eaters went in and out on missions every day; but they were always assigned and carefully designated. To blatantly disobey every order that had ever been given to them – _stay here unless told otherwise, don't leave, don't make a commotion, don't bother the Dark Lord_ – this pretty much broke every single rule that had ever been made.

Draco didn't really care- he wanted to be out of the hell that was headquarters, and most of all out of the torture that was called life as a Death Eater. He wanted- _needed- _Hermione to see the sun again- they were always sent out in the nighttime. He needed her to feel the rain on her face without being afraid of being attacked in the darkness. He needed them to have normal lives again.

He wasn't exactly sure that their lives when they returned would be _normal_, but it was as close as they could get. He knew that. Hermione knew that.

They had both been on reprieve from missions for a good while now, and the chances of them being called for another that night was extremely low. They both had learned the system well enough to watch for signs that would betray upcoming events; and to the best of their ability, there had been none.

Draco knew Hermione was afraid. He was too, only he didn't admit it to himself like she did; he had long ago learned to hide the fear that constantly liked to spring up inside of him. Regardless, their reasons for fearing were logical and real- everyone on the Light side thought they had betrayed them, and in all essence it was true. The only difference was what they had done with that betrayal.

Throughout the three years Draco and Hermione had been Death Eaters, they had constantly been on the watch for any way they could ease the suffering of those around them. Hermione was, of course, brilliant at Potions and Draco wasn't that bad at them either; the secret potions they made at night were often given to prisoners to ease a bit of their pain. They both killed quickly and easily when necessary, and didn't enjoy bloodshed like the others did.

The main thing Hermione and Draco were both worried about was being killed on the spot by the first person they saw who recognized them. Throughout the three years they had sporadically glimpsed Harry, Ron, or some of the other Weasleys in the battle; Hermione had carefully avoided them, and at Hermione's request Draco had also.

Hermione's brain already contained massive amounts of information about heavy shields and spells; as soon as she had proved herself worthy of the Death Eater ranks she had been assigned a job almost like a researcher. She had reported her findings directly to Voldemort, and Draco had always been pleasantly surprised when she almost always came back unscathed; her research was nearly always pleasing to Voldemort. She had always carefully held back things that would truly be destructive to the Light side, and only shared them with Draco; but anyway, she was extremely smart in the ways of magic, even more so than when they had left Hogwarts. With her, Draco normally felt pretty protected.

Their relationship had began as a close friendship, and then fallen into desperate need for affection, attention, and protection. Those simple three wants had cemented their relationship when the other could provide each. Hermione wasn't quite sure she could live without Draco, and Draco felt the same way. They were both legally adults in the Wizarding World now, and for that reason they weren't afraid of being separated by force.

Hermione's whisper broke Draco out of his thoughts. "Let's go, Draco." He nodded quickly, and they were gone.

--

Albus Dumbledore was a strong man, with a brilliant mind and a good heart. He was extremely adept at predicting what would happen, and he prided himself on that fact. However, in a million years he had not expected this.

His office was heavily warded and charmed to only let in those who had innocent intentions and no thoughts of hurting him or any of the people associated with his cause. It was really a brilliant charm, and one that Dumbledore was most proud of for creating. It was never wrong, but for the first time in his life he wondered if it was.

In front of him stood Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, betrayers of the Light.

--

Immediately Dumbledore could feel the strong shield that had been put up around the two, no doubt by Hermione. He tested it gently with his magic before speaking, and found he could not budge it in the least- either they had gotten stronger, or he had gotten weaker. He guessed the first.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Draco spoke, his voice calm, cool, and collected as usual. "What a pleasure to see you again."

Dumbledore leaned in his high-backed chair and smiled gently. "Well, it certainly is a surprise."

"I suppose we must explain," Hermione interjected. "Please, Professor- let us explain."

Without a word, Dumbledore gestured to the two chairs that were sitting unoccupied in front of his desk. Under the protection of the dark wood, his wand was drawn and his own shield was constructed wordlessly. It wasn't that he didn't trust the two sitting in front of him- well, actually, he didn't; the main reason was that Dumbledore had no reason to doubt their power, and he didn't particularly want to be on the receiving end of it.

Hermione was speaking, and Dumbledore listened attentively. "We left, three years ago to the day, and joined the Dark side. You know that much." Dumbledore nodded, waiting for the catch.

"However," Draco continued, "it wasn't so we could destroy the Light. We were trying to destroy the Dark from the inside."

"You can check our memories," Hermione said nervously, her anxiety obvious in her voice. "We'll willingly give them to you. But you have to believe that we never wanted to hurt- we have been giving pain potions, and killing quickly rather than slowly, for three years now. We've been trying. Please…"

Dumbledore nodded slowly. He didn't want to believe their story- but he did. It really was a brilliantly brave thing to do, and it was exactly what Severus had been doing for years. Idly, Dumbledore wondered to himself if Severus had been in on the plan too; but at this time it seemed rather insignificant and he didn't bother asking.

He thought up another question in no time, however. "Why couldn't you tell anyone? Why not me- why not Harry, or the Weasleys? It would have made things so much easier. They were heartbroken, Hermione, when you… left."

Tears were slipping down Hermione's face now, and Dumbledore almost felt bad. He watched in interest as Draco slipped his arms around Hermione's shoulder and held her close to him, pulling her sobbing face into his shoulder and rubbing her hair gently. He turned to face Dumbledore, and the old man was almost shocked by the look of warning that was etched on the blonde's face.

"Don't you know what we've been through?" He hissed angrily, taking a deep breath and trying to control his temper. "There's no need for you to ask questions that are deliberately cruel. We had to take the _Dark Marks,_ Professor- we watched people die from suffocating on their own blood. We both have scars that will never, ever heal, and we are both broken in more places than one. You have no idea- and why did we do it? I'll tell you why. We did it to fulfill your whole great wish of the damn _Greater Good_, and here we are. We tried, and I'll say we really did make a difference. We have information on plans, and future conquests, and how Voldemort works- and I'll say that's pretty important, don't you? I'm sure your _precious_ spy Severus can't possibly get it all. We've been living that, _sir,_ and don't you dare try to downplay it."

After a moment, Dumbledore nodded with difficulty. "I'd like to see some crucial memories, if you please," he said quietly. "And welcome back."

--

**Please review.**


	5. Chapter Four

Hermione and Draco had both been astoundingly willing to give up their memories for Dumbledore to examine. He had suggested which ones he would be most interested in seeing, and with only a few grimaces of pain both had transferred the memories into the old man's waiting Pensieve. Never letting down his shield, Dumbledore had carefully viewed them with a calculating eye.

He had been quite surprised when they had proved to be satisfactory. The memories of them speaking with one another on how to ruin the cause of the Dark; the ones of them recieving their Dark Marks bravely; and even the ones of their tenderly sweet relationship forming- all of them had somehow convinced Dumbledore that they were truly committed to the Light, and he couldn't help but respect them even more now that he knew exactly what they had been doing.

He took his time in turning around and looking at them, and the fear on both of their faces was evident. Before speaking, Dumbledore couldn't resist testing their minds. He knew it was a cruel thing to do, but he could practically hear the thoughts running around in their heads. _Is it enough? Will he believe us? Oh, Merlin, let him believe us..._

Dumbledore was even more surprised to find that despite his large powers in the field of Llegimency, he could not break their shields. Both their shields were carefully constructed and practically inpenetratable. Dumbledore had always known that the two standing in front of him were two of the strongest magic-wise in the school, next to Harry himself; but never would he have thought that they would be strong enough physically and mentally to withstand the trials of being a Death Eater.

He finally decided to end their misery, and with just a few words Dumbledore re-established their hope. "I believe you."

The relief on their faces couldn't be described with words; their eyes simply melted, and their tense stances relaxed down into more casual poses. Draco was the first to speak.

"Thank you, sir," he whispered meaningfully, still clenching Hermione's hand. "This means the world..." Next to him, Hermione's tears were still flowing steadily.

The silence was rather awkward as Hermione and Draco seemed to be comforting and reassuring one another wordlessly. Dumbledore couldn't help but be amazed once again at the two's proficiency at Occlumency and Llegimency; he had apparently been wrong to assume that himself, Snape, and Voldemort were the only ones that accomplished in the craft.

It rather unnerved the old man; he liked to have the world spinning exactly in the direction he wanted it to. Dumbledore hated to admit it, but it almost _scared_ him when he couldn't control the reins in every adventure.

Draco finally broke the silence. His words were hesitant and halted, but honest all the same. "I suppose, then, that now we won't be much use to the Light."

Dumbledore's shocked face must have been enough to make him continue, because he immediately began speaking again.

"The Dark side unfortuanently knows our faces, and they know how we work; they even know our strengths and our weaknesses. I'm positive that by now they know we are gone, and I'm sure they are furious. Any field work that we do would put not only ourselves at risk, but also the entire cause."

Dumbledore took a minute to contemplate what the young man had said. In all reality, it was a good argument, and it made sense; but the practical part of Dumbledore's brain told him there had to be another way. The strategist inside of him was definitely not willing to sacrifice two of his strongest players.

Sighing deeply, Dumbledore set his face firmly, turned again to look at Hermione and Draco, and began to make plans.

--

Hermione's tears started again as soon as they exited Dumbledore's office, and Draco immediately swept her into his arms. He had always found the little niche down the hall from the office rather useful; in his years at Hogwarts, unfortunate news had come from that office many times. As much as Draco denied it, he had hid in that niche more than once- if only to be blessedly _alone_.

Picking the small girl straight off the ground and into his arms, Draco ducked into the small hole and settled himself on the bench inside. Hermione was still sobbing, rather loudly he noticed; but he ignored that fact and instead focused on wiping her tears away and calming her.

Draco couldn't deny that she now meant the world to him; he thought she was beautiful and brilliant and perfect, and he hated every minute that she was in danger or hurt or upset. That was why, in times like these, it was with frantic fervor that he tried to calm her.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's broad, muscular chest, settling her head right under his chin. He stroked her hair gently, whispering to her and comforting her.

Neither of them noticed how well sound echoed out of that niche in the wall.

--

Harry Potter walked purposefully down the long corridor, heading for the office he knew so well by now. This was by far his favorite hallway in the school; it was lined with portraits and paintings that were very much alive, and the huge windows between the pieces of art gave the hall a very open feeling.

He was almost to the end of the hall, and to the doorway of Dumbledore's office, when he heard soft sobs and quiet whispers coming from one of the walls.

Frowning, Harry looked closely at the wall in question until he found a small inclosure, sticking out like a sore thumb. Wand out and at the ready, Harry crept through the hole-

Only to find his missing best friend and arch-enemy, comforting one another in the darkness.

**Sorry it's been so long. Please review! How should Harry take the news that they are back?**


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